


Three proposals

by alma76



Category: Humour - Fandom, Longmire (TV), Romance - Fandom, Walt Longmire Mysteries - Craig Johnson
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-17
Updated: 2018-02-17
Packaged: 2019-03-20 06:01:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,491
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13711371
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alma76/pseuds/alma76
Summary: Three times Walt asks Vic to marry him. Or he tries to.





	Three proposals

**Author's Note:**

> It's been a long time since I wrote anything but apparently Longmire (the books and the show) inspired me. I think this little piece can take place either in the show or the books. Your choice.  
> This is actually my first story on A3O. The others are on fanfiction(dot)net  
> Obviously the characters don't belong to me, they belong to the formidable Craig Johnson. I hope this barely story doesn't shame them (too much).

We were at my place, lounging on the sofa, my foot on the coffee table, Vic on my chest, when I first asked her.  
\- Vic?  
\- Hum?  
\- Do you want to marry me?  
\- What?  
\- Do you want to marry me?  
Vic stood up, turn to me.  
\- What the fuck, Walt!  
She took her jacket and her keys and stormed out of the cabin.  
She didn't come back.

****

A few days later, no news of Vic. She called in sick and didn't answer any of my phone calls. So I decided to ask the help of my expert.  
\- So what did you say to her this time? Henry asked. I saw her this morning, she is all kind of mad at you.  
\- I kind of asked her to marry me.  
Henry rose an eyebrow.  
\- Asked her as in a casual question or as in a proposal?  
I thought about it for a moment. Then, with not a little shame in my voice :  
\- I guess it was more like a casual question.  
Henry watched me, with an air I could only describe as incredulous.  
\- Why would you do that?  
\- Well, it is not as if Vic is an open book. I guess I tested the waters.  
Henry shook his head, looking at the same time incredulous of my stupidity and like he was pitying me.  
\- Walter, you have been my best friend for the longest time and I love you but you really are a moron sometimes...  
For Henry to even use the word, I must have been the worst kind.  
-... To women in general, but particularly to a woman you love - and I suppose you love her?" At my nod, he carried on : "to a woman  
you love, you take a leap of faith. But in your situation, I would say : you just propose and hope that she is either too tired or  
too drunk or just plain brain-damaged to laugh at you and go on her merry way. Surprisingly, with everything Vic has put up with you, there is this very strange possibility that she really is in love with you enough to say yes.  
\- Do you think I should ask now?  
\- No! You really do not listen! You wait a few days. Right now she would shoot you if you just try to talk to her. Then you try crawling back on your knees begging for forgiveness, on your belly if need be. I warn you, it may take a long time, it may never happen. But since Vic is putting up with you for the longest time now, I have hope for you.  
So I followed Henry's advice and after a few weeks, Vic agreed to go out on a date with me. I wined her and dined her. And after an other few weeks, we went back to normal. Well, as normal as could be with an unasked and unanswered proposal between us.

***

the second time I asked, proposed this time, we were on a manhunt. We had established a plan and Henry had already disappeared. So I was alone with Vic waiting for an opportunity to run to my assigned place, hidding crouched behind a boulder. I was supposed to take the high ground and shoot with my rifle to provide cover for Vic and Henry. Not that I was any kind of  
happy with this plan but I was the best shooter of the three.  
I turned to her, and this time watch my ton:  
\- Vic, will you marry me?  
Vic turned to me, watching me closely, then :  
\- You serious?  
\- Yep.  
She shook her head, incredulous. It seems that I inspired that particular sentiment a lot lately.  
\- You really have the worst timing, you know that?!  
I shrug.  
\- Can I hope for an answer before you go risk your life?  
\- No!  
I recoiled a little at the hard no. I waited a moment then.  
\- No, you won't marry me or no, you won't answer?  
She then completely turned to me, invading my personal space, which in our crouched state was quite a feat, gripped my shirt and pulled me to her. She kissed me hard on the lips, then answered :  
\- I won't answer just yet, because your timing is the worst. Ask me again later and maybe you'll have your answer. Asshole.  
My opportunity went but Vic didn't release me before she added with a threat in her voice :  
\- And if you got shot again, you better be dead otherwise I'll finish you off myself.  
Then she released me, putting me off balance.  
I got shot again, but surprisingly she didn't finish me off. Maybe she loved me after all.

***

I actually took a bullet in the head, running after her. Long story. The bullet was a ricochet, so it didn't take too much of my brain. But enough so that I stayed in a coma for 48 hours. I was barely coming back from my coma that she berated me for my foolishness, my stupidity, my recklessness and so on. I couldn't remember a lot at that moment so I just asked:  
\- I am sorry but who are you?  
I think that was the first time I saw Vic speechless and panicky. After a few hours, I was remembering my name, hers, Henry's, my daughter's, my late wife's. After a few days, I was remembering the rest. Even the big question.  
I don't think I've ever seen Vic so quiet before as in these days.  
Obviously, once fully awake, I quickly had enough of the hospital and the doctor knowing me well didn't insist too much that I stayed longer. Instead he gave me, then Vic, who came to pick me up, a long list of recommendations and didn't allow us to leave before we repeat them to him. Twice.  
The drive to my cabin was eerily quiet but I didn't pay much attention, so far engrossed in my own thought : when can I ask the question without driving her away again?  
Vic almost didn't give me the opportunity. She stopped the car and turned to me :  
\- Well, then, I guess it's goodnight.  
\- Won't you come and have a coffee?  
\- Aren't you a little tired?  
\- Exhausted. For the past 30 years. Please have coffee with me? Apparently my begging ton was better than my proposing one because she let herself persuaded and she followed me to my cabin. I decided there wouldn't be a perfect time to ask her, so I went to my bedroom, to pick up the ring I chose carefully with Henry (off course!) and Cady (obviously!) a few days before the shooting.  
\- Make yourself comfortable. I won't be a minute.  
\- Do you want me to make the coffee?  
\- Yes, okay.  
To hell with the coffee. Once in the bedroom, I had a few sweaty moments until I remembered where I put the ring. I didn't bother with the box and put the precious jewel in my pants pocket.  
When I returned in the living room, Vic was putting two coffee mugs on the coffee table. I dropped next to her and without letting her say a word, I pulled the ring from my pocket and presenting it to her, I told her, with all the emotion of the last few years in my voice:  
\- Vic, I know I am an old fool and a moron, with half a brain at the best of times and I don't deserve you but I love you and I would like you to be my wife.  
Her gaze passed back and forth from the ring to me, her face unreadable. She stayed silent for so long, I began to feel very uncomfortable so i chose to break the silence.  
\- Help me out here, Vic. I am a little brain-damaged these days.  
\- No.  
My heart dropped to my feet. I played and I lost. Tell that to the pieces of my heart at my feet in front of the sofa. All those thoughts went through my damaged brain in the two second before she carried on.  
\- You are not a little brain-damaged, you moron, you are completely brain-dead otherwise you would have popped the question months, even years ago.  
-Is that a yes? I asked with a shaky voice, the pieces of my heart piecing themselves back together and then back up in my chest, at their rightful place. Vic crawled onto my lap and pushing me against the back of the sofa, she kissed me lightly on the forehead, the jaw, the eyes then not so lightly on the lips. I eagerly participated, feeling the beginning of relief in my chest, my brain and everywhere on my body she was in contact with. Which was mostly everywhere. After a long time, she lifted her head, with a smile to burn the desert itself and the eyes full of tears, belying her gruff answer:  
\- Ok then. But only because I know I will have your life insurance.

**Author's Note:**

> Ok then. I know it is a little rough but I kind of like it like that. Maybe I will try to improve it later. It is unbeta-ed, so all mistakes are mine (and I apologise for them).  
> Please don't be too hard on me, english is not my first language.


End file.
